


I Don't Remember

by MiniRaven



Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, M/M, One Shot, POV Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 09:56:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12166611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiniRaven/pseuds/MiniRaven
Summary: Magic stole a part of Steve's memory. He's not worried. I'll come back eventually. But there's something important he needs to remember right now. What is it? Why this? Why now?





	I Don't Remember

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Cap IM Tiny RB Round 9: Rollerskates](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11912694) by [eustassya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustassya/pseuds/eustassya). 



> Sorry I couldn't get this up during your week eustassya. Your art was so pretty, but I couldn't make it in time.
> 
> Unbetaed so sorry about any errors. I tried my best.

Every time Steve fell asleep, he had the same dream. He was in an empty room. No decorations, no furniture, no personal items, nothing. But in the middle of the room, there was a person. Someone who felt very familiar. Someone Steve had forgotten.

It was a man. He was a bit smaller in stature compared to Steve. But beyond his height, Steve didn’t know much about him. He couldn’t make out any details about the color of his hair of the softness of his eyes. The man in his dream was just felt like a missing piece of a puzzle in his mind. The absence of a person.

Magic did that sometimes. Especially magic that erased memory. But Steve could work through it. The spell only made him forget. Steve could remember. If he could remember things like his name or his friend’s faces, it couldn’t be that hard to remember this man, right?

Of course not. This missing piece of his life felt important. This person meant something to Steve. He felt like someone that Steve should have never forgotten about in the first place. But he did. And Steve hated it.

This missing piece of Steve’s memory plagued him day and night. It was like that feeling you get when you forget something important. That deep sense of wrong you feel just before you leave the house. You put your hand on the door handle and think, “Did I forget something? I have everything I need, but I feel like I forgot something.” And you can’t think of it. And you try and you try, but nothing comes to mind. So, you leave home, and in the middle of the day, when you need that thing the most, you remember. You left it on the table so you could pick it up in the morning and why couldn’t you remember this earlier? It was so important how could you forget?

It was like that, only Steve never could remember what it was. He knew the amnesia had erased something important in his life, but his dreams were the only time he got a glimpse at what he was missing. Every time he closed his eyes to sleep, Steve saw this person, that man, only a few inches away from him, smiling and whispering words and Steve couldn’t begin to comprehend.

It didn’t make sense. None of it made sense. And yet there he was. Every time. An enigma, the erased remains of a person Steve could never focus on standing in front of him, speaking words that didn’t make sense.

“I love you,” said the man. “I will always love you.”

Steve couldn’t understand. He could barely comprehend it when he was awake. How could anyone love him? He was stubborn and impulsive. He worked too hard. He didn’t take directions well. He had problems with authority. He carried the weight of the world on his shoulders and had a hard time letting people in. Who in their right mind would love someone like him?

Apparently, this man.

Night after night he appeared in Steve’s dreams, nothing more than a shadow of a man. Night after night, he’d welcome Steve with open arms, repeating those words over and over in a voice Steve knew but couldn’t place. “I love you. I will always love you.” And every time Steve had this dream, he walked into that embrace and tried to remember.

He held the man tight in his arms and tried to do everything he could to retain the smallest hint as to who this man was. Steve buried his face in the man’s shoulder and tried to remember the smell of sweat and oil emended in his clothes. He rubbed his cheek along the man’s face and tried to memorize the burn of a precisely trimmed beard along his skin. Steve ran his fingers though the man’s hair, learning how each strand felt between his fingers. He wrapped his arms around the man’s waist, trying to hold the memory for a few seconds longer before it all vanished.

He tried to remind himself how warm it was here. How much love he felt. Kindness, trust, boundless faith in Steve. The way the light in this mysterious man’s heart bounced off the star on Steve’s chest. Steve tried to remember it all.

“I’ll find you,” Steve said as the dream began to fade, signaling his return to a broken reality and an even more broken memory. “I swear I’ll find you.”

 

* * *

 

Steve woke up, his head cradled in the lap of his best friend, Tony Stark. The credits to an old movie were playing in the background. Brass and woodwind instruments played an upbeat song, signaling to the audience the end of a battle won. But Tony’s attention was solely focused on Steve.

“You sleep okay?” asked Tony. There were heavy bags under his eyes. Whether they were from worry or lack of sleep, Steve didn’t know. He wished Tony would take better care of himself. He had taken such good care of Steve since the incident. There should be someone looking after Tony. Steve considered doing it, but he was in no position to tell another person how to live his life. Steve could barely live his without Tony’s help.

Instead Steve nodded, stretching his arms over his head until his shoulder popped. “Just a weird dream.”

Steve saw an excited spark in Tony’s eye. That look of hope whenever Steve remembered something. “What was it about?”

Steve opened his mouth to answer, but the second he did, it was all gone. Like sand through a sieve, the details of the dream faded and disappeared. He couldn’t remember the smell of motor oil on skin or the burn of a beard on his cheek or soft hair under his fingers. He couldn’t remember the man, diligently waiting for him in his dream repeating, “I love you,” over and over again. In a second, it was all gone and Steve was left feeling just as alone and confused has he had the day the spell was cast.

“I don’t remember.”


End file.
